Ok, so these are sideways, but you get the point. It's confirmed at 9 weeks that there is officially a baby OR some supernatural creature living in me. Little Ramey looks more like an alien than the Gerber baby in trimester uno.

It's on...

Mike and I found out we were having a baby one week before we set to sail to the Bahamas. We didn't know; it was still early and really no indication of pregnancy...I wasn't even late. We just figured that we were going on a booze cruise and couldn't risk the slight possibility. Well, go figure. One faint line on a dollar store test led to the word "pregnant" appearing on one of those snazzy digital ones.

Now I'm 14 weeks and can't believe I have already strolled into the second trimester. I've felt more like I've had mono the past few months than a baby growing inside of me. Even the ultrasound we had at nine weeks didn't bring me to reality. What did make this real was the fact that I had to unbutton my pants at work yesterday.

Other than my expanding waist line and Pamelaesque bust, I've been doing alright...at least compared to the horror stories of vomiting and nausea the 'mothers' in my life have shared. Everyone seems to have some form of an opinion or advice to offer. I get questionable looks as I sip my decaffeinated ice coffee and have no intention of explaining myself to anyone.

Even though I am not visibly pregnant, those who know make attempts to grab and pat my stomach. I spin around or dodge them like lightening...pregnancy is not a ticket to violate my space. One mommy in my life provided me with sound advice which I intend to use when the opportunity presents itself. She said, "If anyone tries to rub your belly, go and rub theirs back." I am not a Buddha and promise I will not provide good fortune, but I may leave you with a black eye.